


First Date

by zzzzzzzo



Series: Harry Potter Works, all set in the same universe [4]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Fluff, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-09
Updated: 2017-06-09
Packaged: 2018-11-11 15:35:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11151381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zzzzzzzo/pseuds/zzzzzzzo
Summary: It's been some time since Harry and Draco started dating, if you could call it that. Now, with a Hogsmeade visit approaching, it's time they figure out just what that relationship entails...





	First Date

**Author's Note:**

> this is technically a sequel to [A Happy Thought Indeed](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5747149), but it can stand alone too. still i'd recommend reading it, both for a little extra context and a lotta extra fluff!! ^^

The year’s first Hogsmeade visit is announced to be on Halloween. Hermione, Ron and I chatter together enthusiastically over breakfast, making plans. Soon Ron and I have the whole day squared away with ideas, set on stopping by all our favorites. Honeydukes, Zonko’s, a visit with Abeforth, the post office to place an order for Lockhart’s latest (and most likely extremely garbled, considering his state of mind) book, and finishing off at the Three Broomsticks, as per usual.

“And Ron and I should go to Madam Puddifoot’s at some point, of course, to give Harry some time alone,” Hermione adds as an afterthought. I look at Ron for clarification, but he looks just as puzzled. 

“Alone time?” I ask. “But why would I…” Hermione jerks her head pointedly towards the Slytherin table. I crane my neck and catch sight of Malfoy, filling out a crossword as he eats alone. “Oh.  _ Oh.”  _  Slightly sheepish now. Once again, Hermione has a better hold on my love life than I do. I haven’t yet told her or Ron about Malfoy, putting off that particular interrogation for the moment, but of course Hermione could figure it out. 

“What?” interjects Ron, casting bemused looks to the both of us. “What’s going on with Harry?” 

Hermione spares me from answering by telling Ron about a smudge of dirt on his nose. Déjà vu.

\---

Later that evening I catch sight of Malfoy in a corridor, reading as he walks, and, thankfully, alone. Asking him out will be much easier than it was with Cho, that’s for sure. “Oi, Malfoy!” He raises his gaze and waits as I hurry up to his side. “Hey, um…” Maybe not easier, actually. My eyes lock onto a strand of hair hanging carelessly down his forehead, free from its carefully styled brethren, and he flicks it out of his eyes, and their gray-rimmed pupils seem to bore into me, and they’re ridiculously beautiful, and my throat dries as I momentarily forget why I called him out.

“What?” he says, but that only draws my gaze down to his mouth. His lips, still slightly reddened from that night in the Shrieking Shack, that awesome night, not so long ago, really, but I haven’t kissed him since and suddenly wonder if I’m allowed to now.  _ “What?” _ he snaps again, and judging by the now heavy scowl occupying his lips, I’m guessing they’d deny access at this point.

Finally, with a rapid shake of my head, I manage to get it out. “Want to meet up in Hogsmeade this weekend? You know… alone?”

Malfoy (or should I start calling him Draco?) blinks. His eyes widen imperceptibly. For a moment I just know that asking him was a bad idea, that he’ll be appalled by my even proposing the plan, likely I’ll be ducking a curse any second now, but then--

“When and where?” asks Malfoy, his face quickly turning blotchy and betraying his flippant tone. I can’t help but smile a little as we make plans. It’s a relief, knowing I’m not the only one traipsing into unknown territory here.  _ We’re all in this together, _ I think, to quote my idol, Zac Efron. God, I love Zefron. I’ve been thinking of putting up a poster of him in my dorm…

I digress! Malfoy and I agree to meet by the Shrieking Shack at noon, and I walk off feeling considerably lighter than before.

\---

I blow into my hands and rub them together, shivering slightly. It’s not especially cold, but there’s no movement to keep me warm. I arrived to wait for Potter at eleven thirty. Not because I’m extremely desperate, or anything of that nature. I just… Don’t have much else to do. I’ve thought about reconciling with Goyle, but haven’t gotten to it, so as of yet I don’t exactly have friends at the moment. Freezing my ass off waiting for a boy is about as exciting as anything else I could be doing right now.

A couple of first year girls come by, giggling madly. I watch boredly as they together urge their fellows to try going in the Shack. It’s a bit amusing, to see people gossip eagerly about the place. The most exciting thing to happen there in the past several months is just… Well. I flush from more than just cold thinking about that night. A part of me still doubts whether it was truly sincere. Perhaps it was just some elaborate prank. Potter may be planning to just leave me hanging, or throw something at me, or…

“Hey!” Just as my thoughts are trailing down a dark path, Potter jogs up to me. His hair is sticking out under his hat every which way, and it looks ridiculous. Weirdly attractive though, and I’m not the only one to notice judging by the squeals that rise from the girls when he approaches. He only has eyes for me though, tugging his collar awkwardly when he stops in front of me. “You been waiting long?”

“Yes,” I snap, scowling heavily. Mentally kick myself; why must I default to being a dick? Potter only chuckles and grabs my hand with feigned ease. The little of his face I can see poking out from his scarf reddens slightly, but his voice is steady.

“You’re freezing!” he murmurs, squeezing my fingers. The girls start to whisper curiously, no doubt about us, but he doesn’t acknowledge them. “Maybe we should go to the Three Broomsticks?”

“I don’t know about that,” I mutter, too aware of the curious eyes on me. “It’s so crowded there, and we’re getting plenty of looks even here.”

“You’ll get used to the stares,” he says, with a knowing look in his eye. Of course, he’s dealt with this his whole life at Hogwarts. I still can’t help but squirm, under both the close scrutiny of the girls and his steady gaze. He must see that, because he continues, “Or… Actually, here.” He rummages through his pocket and throws his Invisibility Cloak over the both of us. The girls squeal when we vanish. I flush, if possible, even deeper, now that he’s standing close to ensure our feet aren’t visible. “Better?”

“Absolutely not!” I hiss, but maybe it is, a little bit. I’d like to get away from the girls, who are now groping to see if they can find us, so I snatch his hand and tug him away at a rapid pace. Potter walks along complacently, a strange, satisfied smile on his face. After a moment he starts to laugh. I huff hugely. “What  _ now?” _

“Nothing, just… This is where I once threw mud at you, remember? In our third year.”

“Oh, great. That’s exactly what to talk about on a date. Real smooth.”

“So this is a date, then?”

...Crap. “Piss off.”

\---  
When we enter the Three Broomsticks, I immediately remove the Cloak. Malfoy sputters indignantly, as I should have foreseen.

“W-what? Are you crazy? If anything, this is the one place we  _ must  _ wear it!”

“Look, if you want to try getting through a crowd invisible without bumping into someone, be my guest.” I push the bundled up cloak into his hands. “Find a seat.” I walk off, leaving him sputtering in his usual indignation. I squeeze through the crowd up to Madam Rosmerta. “Two butterbeers, please.”

“Two?” she murmurs with a raised brow as she rummages to get our drinks. “Here with a special someone, Potter?” 

“Something like that,” I say awkwardly. Reach over for the drinks but she wiggles them tantalizingly out of reach. 

“Not so fast, dear!” she teases. “Go on, spill! Who’s the lucky girl?” 

Girl. Yikes. That… feels weird. Of course I should be dating a girl. What the hell am I doing? This is just, crazy. And it’s absolutely  _ not _ something I want to spill my guts on. Not just yet, anyway. Instead, I draw my wand. “ _ Accio butterbeers!”  _ The two bottles jerk from her grip and land promptly in my waiting hand. I grin. “Thanks, Ro,” I say, tossing over four sickles and hurrying off.

It’s ridiculously easy to find Malfoy amid the crowd of chattering students. His arms and legs are crossed, a foot jiggling impatiently as he waits. He has a scowl for everyone who passes by. Seriously, he is such a shit. When did that stop being infuriating and become endearing? I don’t even know.

His scowl grows, if possible, even deeper when he spots me. “Took you long enough,” he grumbles the moment I’m within earshot. 

“Nice to see you too,” I say, heavily sarcastic. I pop the neck of a butterbeer bottle into his mouth when it opens to retort. He becomes, if possible, even more indignant. With that, we settle into a steady rhythm of constant bickering. It’s a relief, somehow. It would just be weird if Malfoy became all lovey dovey now. It’s a comfort to know he’s still the same, weirdly appealing jerk.

It’s while I’m weighing the pros and cons of kissing him in public that a voice cuts me out of my reverie. “Um… Harry?” I look up. Ron’s staring at us with an expression of utter confusion. Hermione cringes behind him, and I don’t doubt she had been trying to spare me this moment. It’s too late now, though, and I’m quickly turning red under Ron’s confused gaze as I stutter, searching for an excuse. 

Shockingly, it’s Malfoy that rescues me. He stands quickly, his palms lying flat on the table, and side-eyes Ron. “Excuse you, Weasley,” he says in his most pompous voice, “but I’m on a date at the moment. I’d appreciate if you took your Mud… your Granger,” (it’s a start?) “and let us be.” I should probably be appalled by the sudden outburst. Instead, I’m struck by the sudden urge to laugh. I somehow manage to keep my expression sheepish, watching an apologetic Hermione lead a dumbstruck Ron away.

Two things happen the moment the two are gone. I burst out laughing, and Malfoy collapses back into his seat and bangs his head on the table.

“Malfoy.  _ Malfoy,”  _ I wheeze, hardly able to draw breath. “Oh  _ Merlin, _ that was just--”

“Utterly mortifying,” asserts his muffled voice.

“Brilliant. I mean, it’s not how I would have planned Ron finding out--”  _ fwump _ as he pounds his head again “--but it certainly got the message across. Did you  _ see  _ his face?”

“Yes. I did. And in case you haven’t noticed, that was the worst impression I could have possibly given!” He tilts his head up to glower at me, looking remarkably childlike with his chin pressed on the table. “As if years of being an idiot weren’t enough, I have to continue to be awful when I finally have some level of foresight to want to actually make some friends!”

“Oh, it’ll be fine. You managed to not call Hermione a slur, at least!” I say encouragingly. “Granted, that’s usually the bare minimum of human decency--” he groans “--but with you it’s a big step. Besides, Ron’s had to endure me dating his sister in the past. Considering that, this is a marked improvement.”

“Ridiculous,” Malfoy mutters, but I can see the ghost of a smile on his face now. “Completely, utterly stupid.”

“Yeah,” and I’m pulling out the cloak and tugging it over us across the tabletop, so to all others we’ll just look like two headless people getting drinks, “love usually is.” And I put Malfoy’s lips to a much better use than voicing misgivings.

 

**Author's Note:**

> if you liked this please subscribed to the [series](http://archiveofourown.org/series/736080), i've got lots more drarry coming your way as well as some other fun stuff!!
> 
> please leave a comment, to compliment or criticize. they really help, not to mention make my day :D


End file.
